Blind Love - Epilogue
by Sylvie Orp
Summary: Follow-on from Blind Love. As Bodie loses consciousness, having been shot, his last words were 'I love you'. What did he mean? Doyle has some thinking to do. From Doyle's POV.


The ride to the hospital seemed endless. Fortunately Murphy kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut. Collins was quiet in the back somewhere. We pulled up outside the hospital. The rain, as predicted on the forecast, was pelting down. I was reluctant to enter Casualty. The smell of disinfectant. The haste and bustle and anxiety. I felt I couldn't cope with it. I said something to Murph, but I wasn't sure myself what it was. The pain in my heart and the pain in my arm were vying for pole position. I was handed over to an efficient looking nurse. A tight blouse like that, usually on the NHS, would get my pulses racing. But I just wasn't in the mood for it. I wasn't in the mood for her, or for female company generally. I kept going over Bodie's words. What was said in the car after the wedding. What he said on the stairs as he was… No, let's not go there.

The nurse has my jacket off now and I'm helping her to unbutton my shirt. Such intimacies usually elicit some kind of reaction from me. But not today. I'm too confused and frightened. She has me down to my vest now and is examining the wound. She can see I'm shaking but professionally ignores my weakness.

"That looks nasty, Mr Doyle."

She cleans the wound as best she can as I bite down on my bottom lip. The procedure is certainly taking my mind off things. After she has bandaged it she tells me that I need to come in tomorrow and have it reassessed and cleaned. I nod distractedly as she pushes a prescription form in my hand for antibiotics and painkillers as she helps me dress.

"I'll give you something for the pain now."

I could certainly do with something. I could do with a drink too. But I have to keep a clear head. It's proving very difficult already, and I'm stone cold sober now. After we're done I wander out to Reception and see Murph and Collins.

"What's going off?" It seemed a vague enough question to me. In my heart I didn't want to know. I didn't want to see the pitying eyes and the sadness in their voices as they tried to break the news to me. "I'm sorry" are the only words that one can say in such circumstances, and it's usually followed by an awkward silence.

"The Old Man was here a moment ago, but I'm not sure where he is now," said Murphy, looking around him as though the Controller was lurking under the chairs somewhere. Knowing him, that wouldn't have been so surprising.

"What does he know?" I thought I could get at the truth sideways like this.

"As much as we do," said Collins.

He was getting right up my nose. I could feel my control slipping. Punching him on the nose would feel very good right now.

"No news yet," Murphy confirmed, as though I was too stupid to understand what Collins meant.

"You two go home, and I'll stay here for news."

"No, Ray. The old man told us to stick with you and take you home. You've got a nasty injury. There's nothing we can do here."

I wasn't ready to accept that. I didn't want to be far from Bodie's side. I knew I couldn't muscle my way into the theatre, and I didn't want to distract the surgeons in any case, so being here in this building was the nearest I could get to being with him. I looked at my colleagues. Determination shone from their eyes. Nothing short of a gas attack was going to take them from me. They were going to follow orders to the letter. I wasn't up to quick thinking. I was in pain, in shock, and - I admit it - terrified. I just wanted to be on my own. I wanted to think this through somewhere quiet where I could weigh Bodie's words. In the car to the hospital I kept going over what he'd said, and that grin. Full of mischief as always. Was he trying to wind me up? Was he just trying to make a joke of the whole thing? That was typical of Bodie – sick jokes in this sick world of ours. Were there clues that I'd missed - or been too stupid not to see? Clues that even Miss Marples could've picked up in her sleep. But was it too late to backtrack now? Was it too late to go back to the beginning and unpick Bodie's words and nuances? But the first thing I needed to do was get rid of my colleagues.

"Ask the receptionist again if there's any news."

"Come on Ray, you know that there'll be nothing so soon."

Yeah there would, if the news were bad. But they could see that I needed to be cajoled. So they turned towards the receptionist with some reluctance. They felt that I needed to be treated gently, like a fragile child. Well it suited my purpose. As soon as their backs were turned – literally - I was on my toes and out into the car park. It was conveniently dark and it was still lashing down. I sat on a wall deep in the shadows and just wanted to think quietly. Ideally I wanted the world to stop or go back to where it was this morning, but knew that it would stay exactly where it was. Where the Controller was now – in the hospital or elsewhere – I didn't know or care. He wasn't my priority.

I saw two men stand at the Casualty door for a while. I was too far away to see if it was Murph and Collins. They went back inside. I remained where I was. I hoped they'd give it up and go home but I had some time to wait before they emerged and headed for their car. I knew which one it was. I was saturated down to my very bones. _You took_ _your time about it_ I thought miserably. As soon as the car had disappeared I returned to Reception and made my weary way upstairs to where I knew the surgical wards were. And then on past that to Intensive Care. I asked after Bodie at the nursing station and showed my ID.

"No news yet Mr Doyle" the nurse said. "He's still in theatre. I wouldn't expect him out for a little while yet."

"Is there anywhere I can wait?"

The nurse saw the bloody tear in my jacket and the story it told. She told me to go home, get some rest and have a hot shower. Then the surgeon approached at her station looking all tense and anxious.

The nurse turned to him and said, "This is Mr Doyle, a colleague of Mr Bodie's. He's waiting for news."

His unexpectedly early arrival had me on high alert. The man turned his eyes to me. _Don't let it be bad news_ I thought. _Please, please don't let it_ _be bad news_. My eyes bored into him trying to interpret his look, his silence.

After a pause which lasted a thousand years, he cleared his throat and announced, "The surgery went well. Mr Bodie is in Intensive Care. That's standard procedure…"

"Yeah I know. I just want to know how he is."

"A bullet penetrated his left lung but he's a fighter, Mr Doyle. I have treated him before. And yes I think I've treated you too, haven't I?"

I knew that he wasn't the surgeon who had pulled me from the brink of death, but I'd had a whole team looking after me. He could well have been one of them. Or on the periphery.

"Can I go and see him?"

"Absolutely not. Not in your condition Mr Doyle. You need to go home. As you may know patients in Intensive Care are very prone to infection. And that's the last thing Mr Bodie needs. You can do him more good by keeping away for the moment. I'll let you know of his progress. But I say again that the surgery went well."

He obviously could see that I was in a state and needed as much reassurance as possible. And I did try to be reassured. I did try to believe what he said. But I also knew that surgery patients can take a sudden dive. I did myself. I knew too that he was right. I could kill Bodie if I gave him an infection. And I would never forgive myself for that. But my heart, my whole being, yearned to be at his side to hold his hand, to give him strength, to give him reassurance. And I could do none of those things.

And I couldn't be the person he wanted me to be. I couldn't give him the love that he needed from me. I just wasn't that person. That was the conclusion I had come to as I had sat in the darkness in the car park with the rain hammering down on the tarmac, slowly knowing that I couldn't be with him at the time he wanted, and the place he wanted, in the manner he wanted. I couldn't be his partner in that sense. So could I be his partner in any sense now? Could we sit together in the car and never touch? Could we joke with our easy banter and know that there could never be more than that? Could we look at each other now and be at peace?


End file.
